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It’s a cruel question to ask now, maybe, when he’s sharing so much deep emotion, but it’s also one Ihaveto ask.
“If I tell you the truth before she’s safe, I’m not sure what will happen.”
Jamie’s voice gets low. His eyes get dark, like he’s holding onto so much pain. He’s locked it away, but I can see it trying to bubble up, affecting every aspect of him.
“You’re not making any sense. Can you at least tell me why the kid was at my house last night?”
“He wanted to scare you. Not the kid, the person in charge. They’ve been following me. They followed me to your place. They wanted you to assumeIwas the one sneaking around.”
“But why?”
“Maybe they don’t like us spending time together.” Jamie squeezes my hand. “Maybe they think they can separate us.”
“We shouldn’t evenbetogether. Maybe we should let them separate us.”
Suddenly, he pulls me right up against him. Wrapping his arms around me, he kisses me passionately. The second our lips make contact, the heat erupts, fire burning between us, so much intimacy I ache for him.
“That’s never going to happen,” he growls.
“N-never?” I whisper, hating the hesitation in my voice.
He stares at me, lips red from kissing, his blue eyes even more unhinged and savage than usual. Does he mean it, or was it just a figure or speech? Does he really meanforever?
CHAPTERELEVEN
Jamie
I’d step away from Lucy now if I were a sane man, but she’s robbed me of my sanity. The second I saw her, I lost my mind, and I don’t want to get it back, not if it means doubting what we’re doing, her closeness, her warmth, justher. Her everything drives me wild, making my heart shatter in my chest a million times per minute, but I have to slow down. If I told her the truth, she might see it as her own prison sentence. So, instead of unleashing all the possessiveness inside of me, I smirk. I play it off as a joke.
“I’m addicted to your perfect body already. You think I’ll let anyone get in the way of that?”
She places her hands on my chest, pushing softly, pouting in that adorable, captivating way. Yet it doesn’t seem so adorable or captivating when she does it now. She looks like she’s ready to yell at me.
“How are you going to get home?” she asks.
I look at my car and grit my teeth. It’s just another example of how I’m not the man Lucy deserves. She deserves a man who can provide for her, who never has to worry about how he’s going to afford to fix a beat-up junker of a vehicle.
“I’ll have to get some replacement tires,” I say. “The car was only a couple hundred bucks. Honestly, it might just be better to scrap it. Maybe I’ll get a goddamned bike.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks, squeezing my hand.
There’s something so intimate about how she does it, as if we’ve skipped ahead years, and she’s my wife already. Maybe she’s comforting me about a book launch or something like that, something important that I can take pride in.
“I can’t even afford to buy a decent vehicle.” I laugh humorlessly. “You deserve better than that.”
“You’re talking like we’re in a relationship or something,” she says, her hand getting tighter on mine. “You don’t owemeanything.”
There it is, another sign I’ve gone too far, and I need to think about what I say before speaking.
“Let me give you a ride for now,” she says. “You can arrange this tomorrow or something?”
I groan, running a hand through my hair. One day, I will have enough money so that things like this will never be a problem. I just hope my woman doesn’t find somebody else in the meantime. I wouldn’t be able to control myself if that happened. I might end up killing someone.
“That sounds good, and thank you.”
We walk toward her car.
“I’m not working until two p.m. tomorrow,” she continues, glancing at me over her shoulder.
